


Puppeteer's Earth (Prologue)

by AuburnKai



Category: Original Work, Puppeteer's Earth
Genre: Character Death, Death, I dont know how to tag, Mercenaries, Original Story - Freeform, Superheroes, Teen and up for very mild gore at the end, otherwise it gucci
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuburnKai/pseuds/AuburnKai
Summary: It is the day celebrating Death on Puppeteer's Earth, but not everyone is celebrating. One lad is working, but he doesn't have a traditional job. He pushes through the crowd trying to find his end destination-trying to find his work and get it over with. But what will he have to do when he gets there?I'm sorry I don't know how to write summaries





	Puppeteer's Earth (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is the prologue for a book I'm working on! I would love honest, constructive criticism, as I do hope to make this a full length book! I do realize that I will need to make some edits, and there are some areas that I want to work on and change myself! If you want to know more about the character(s), then go to my instagram, @friendlyneighborhoodkai (https://www.instagram.com/friendlyneighborhoodkai/)

_Thump Thump Thump_  
The heavy bass enthralled in the demigod’s music could be heard from outside of his headphones, the music almost deafening him, almost drowning out everything he wanted to drown out. The throngs of people around him, the very people he wanted to drown out, paid no mind to the thumping rhythm, paying attention to their own relationships and their own problems. He just shoved past them, ignoring the few elicited responses, determined to find his end destination.  
Said demigod nervously pulled on his spandex mask, feeling safe and suffocated at the same time from having it on. The stretchy material was easy to wear and in objective terms did not actually restrict his breathing, but tonight was not his night. The normally confident man was scatterbrained, picking at the large hoodie pulled over his full spandex costume, any edges of the costume, his other hand, anything. His demeanor was off.  
The full-city party going on around him was not helping his anxiety at all, though providing him with ample cover and distraction. His own music competed with the similarly bass heavy music pumping through the streets, people of all ages came out to walk the streets, dancing, chatting, celebrating. The were celebrating Death’s Day, a day to celebrate the loved ones passed, and the future to come. Food stands and trucks lined the busy streets, hoping to make a quick buck off of the hungry and tired people. Various bars had their doors wide open, people seen entering and exiting in quick succession, in various levels of intoxication. The demigod could swear he could hear the giggles of the heavily intoxicated people as he walked past them, even over his blasting music.  
Yet, he had to get into one of the bars that he had just been complaining about. The smell of booze that had only been lingering before hit him full force as he entered the run down bar, still having to shove past the gathering people in order to get the drinks. Sitting with his back to the door on one of the shitty bar stools, the bartender lingering nearby not even acknowledging the newcomer.  
You couldn’t blame her though, right? A shady guy in spandex and a hoodie walks into your establishment, what are you going to do? Ignore him, apparently. She had other patrons to flirt with for more tips, like the girl she had her sights on right now, a fair lad who was blushing like a lamb. The spandex clad man had no use for the bartender anyways, as he didn’t drink and was in no mood for her flirtings. Hell, he didn’t even take his headphones out.  
No, he was looking for a certain patron, who he was sure would be here, even with the noise and banter, would be drinking his heart out alone. In fact, that was the very man your new protagonist had set himself next to.  
“So,” He purred, not staring right at the wall of drinks in front of him, voice soft even with the headphones. “What are you doing in here alone, when everyone else is out partying their little brains out?"  
"Not the partying type, I guess" The demigod read the man's lips, watching him through the mirror behind bottles of booze, a bar staple. So the flirty bartender could watch her patrons as she fixes them drinks. He hummed, showing the man that he was in fact, listening, and even relating to what he was saying. As the first few paragraphs could show, he wasn't much of a partier himself. "I'm still kept up at my own apartment, so might as well come out here and drink with others."  
With that he took another shot of alcohol, looking about on his way to getting alcohol poisoning. Obviously this guy had some issues he was drinking out, something he wanted to get away from. That wasn't any of our protagonist's business though, and he honestly didn't care. The guy could drink himself to death for all he cared. Hey, maybe that's what he's doing.  
"Hey, Kyle? It’s not that I don't want to believe you, but I just don't. See you may not know me, but I know you," The spandex clad man turned his head slightly toward the other man's, who in turn looked over at him, recognition flickering in his puzzled gaze. The man, Kyle, started to look scared. "I know what you've been doing. Dealing drugs. Ruining other people's lives. Being a plague to our already crumbling society."  
"Wah...? Puppeteer..." The masked man froze, his mercenary name being pulled from the other's lips. He nervously pulled on his mask, making sure the tight material was still on, still covering up his true identity. Using the same hand, he slowly reached into the pocket of his hoodie, taking out his not very well hidden gun, and training it on the other man, almost close enough to touch the man's head. Kyle's eyes widened, scared look turning terrified as he realized that his life was truly in danger. "Hey, I can stop! I can stop... just don't shoot, don't shoot..."  
Puppeteer wasn't bothered by the man's useless begging, only shortly looking around the establishment to see if he had caused any commotion, if anyone was ready to call the cops. He hadn't, in fact, everyone was still drinking, still partying, still blissfully unaware as to the life on the line just inches away from them. Puppeteer's mask eyes drilled into Kyle's soul, not even bothering to read his lips as he continued begging for his life, continued making useless promises that would be broken by the next day, probably less.  
"You should know that I don't believe you. You obviously know me, and since I know you, I know that if I release you you will just go right back to dealing. It's how you get paid! And if I released you, I wouldn't get paid. It's just how shit works in this hell economy we have." Kyle could've sworn that the mask's eyes narrowed at him, regarding him simply as another body, another paycheck. That was all he was now, as Puppeteer braced the gun against his skull and shot.


End file.
